Somewhere between midnight and dawn, in  the middle of no where...

For miles there is just black, a faint star here and there. Or just  my imagination.

I was at the bar, now I’m not.
I am lost, not really. Not my mind, though I ought to be.

Maybe the jungle juice wasn't as potent, or did  the flirty woman stray its influence? The bartender shared my drinks, I'm sure.  

I remember the one handed guitarist took me to some magical place. His spin made it special. The stories too.

And the slurring words and easy smile didn't mask his once life, under the spotlight, with pains and pleasures of many curtain calls.

The balmy breeze caresses like that special someone, nonchalantly, almost teasingly flicking hair from my face. Carelessly, carefully.

Stillness and darkness, a strange duet.  Engulfing, cocoon-like. Draped in solitude. Tight. Yet so easy to breathe.

The trees murmur verses, the fields the chorus. A lullaby of sorts. Which sedates and awakens.

Healing. Transforming…